


A Lesson Learned

by HPFandom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-24
Updated: 2006-06-24
Packaged: 2018-09-30 22:35:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10173935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPFandom_archivist/pseuds/HPFandom_archivist
Summary: Hardly more than a drabble: Draco is five. He begins to learn what it means to be a Pureblood & to be a Malfoy.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

**A Lesson Learned**

When Draco is five he learns the hard way that some wizards and witches are, and always will be better than others. He is one of them. He is a Pureblood. He is not to associate with Mudbloods and Halfbloods. They are beneath him. They are tainted. Tainted by dirty Muggle blood. 

_He_ is a real wizard. He’s a Malfoy. 

He listens to his father tell him all this - has to listen, is too scared to do anything but - and he remembers the red-haired boy he’d met in Diagon Alley that day… the boy who was nice to him, the boy who his father had dragged him away from in anger, in _fury_ , the boy with the smiling parents. Parents who’d seen his father and suddenly lost their smiles, pulling their son towards them protectively and ushering him away, throwing disgusted looks over their shoulders, but touching their son’s hair _so_ gently.

He thinks as he sits alone in a cold room, in a huge house, that maybe that’s what love looks like. 

He thinks that maybe he’d like dirty blood too.


End file.
